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box-of-roses · 4 months

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.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅. I hear you .⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.

♡ Synopsis: You can hear the thoughts of your soulmate; What happens when Sakusa finds out you’re his soulmate and tries to plan the perfect way to tell you

♡ Characters: Sakusa, Y/N

♡ Possible Warnings: Mentions of tests and failing, good old fashioned teasing

♡ Words: 2.3K

Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Series Masterlist

From the moment you’re born you are able to communicate with your soulmate. No one is exactly sure how it works but their thoughts become yours and vice versa. A lot of the time what you hear is nonsense. Since everyone grows up with it constantly in their brain it’s easy to filter out the nonsense from actual conversations. Let’s start from the beginning though shall we?

Y/N is born. Maybe not quite that early, let’s skip ahead to the first coherent conversation you remember with your soulmate. It was just after you had failed a test, which was shocking because you believed you had done well on it.

‘Hey, I don’t know what’s going on over there but will you stop panicking?’ Hearing a voice in the midst of your stupor made you jerk your head up and look around. Seeing nothing on the horizon your brows furrowed and your lips contorted into a frown. ‘Did your parents or teachers not talk to you guys about soulmates? We communicate in our heads.’

That made much more sense as to why you could hear someone talking to you but couldn’t see anyone. ‘Thank you.’

‘Don’t thank me, your panicking made it hard to focus.’ You rolled your eyes at that and stood back up. ‘Just go ask to retake the test if you’re so worried about it.’ That was actually a good idea now that you had thought about it.

And thus the first interaction with your soulmate. Even if they were a bit blunt. You didn’t have many conversations in the early years of your lives. As you approached High School though the conversations came much easier.

‘What high school are you going to?’ You looked down at the three papers in front of you.

‘I’m not telling you that. You might be my soulmate but that doesn’t mean you aren’t a creep.’

‘You’ve literally known me your whole life and can hear what I’m think.’ You rolled your eyes. It was a bit of a habit when dealing with your soulmate. ‘I’m stuck between a couple. We can meet generically if you want or we can go to school together.’

‘Itachiyama.’ What?

‘That’s where I’ll be going to school.’ You felt a smile growing on your face at the news. You pulled out your laptop and began filling out the entrance form.

‘There’s no guarantee that I’ll get in but I’d like to meet you. Talking to you is nice.’

‘I enjoy talking with you too. Now go to sleep, we’re on the same time and I don’t want to listen to you complain about not getting enough sleep.’ It was little things like that. They reminded you that this was in fact your soulmate. Not just a friend that comes and goes. Someone you're with for life, for better or worse.

‘Goodnight K’

‘Goodnight N/N’

You had gotten into the school. Yet you still hadn’t met your soulmate. Well, that’s not entirely true but you didn’t know that you had met your soulmate. The universe works in mysterious ways.

‘I can’t believe it’s been months and I still haven’t met you.’

‘Maybe you have and don’t know it. It is a possibility. It’s a big school and we’re bound to cross paths at some point.’ With a laugh you finished off your notes.

‘I don’t want to force too much. I think it’s a bad idea to figure out a time or place to meet, I have faith in the universe that we’ll meet at some point.’ Tempting the universe too much was never a good idea. Enough movies and shows have taught you that much. Although, it was tempting. Why would it let you get into the same school? Be in the same vicinity but never meet. Not truly at least. Questions for once you found him.

You at least knew that much. Your soulmate was a him, his friends teased him relentlessly for smiling if you said something funny. That he played a sport, and that you two were at the very least friends. You had details but they were still vague enough that it made it difficult to find him.

Day in and day out you would look at people in your classes and wonder if he could be one of them. He of course laughed at you when he heard the thoughts run rampant in your head. If he was in your class you didn’t know, what you did know though was that he was happy you were looking for him. ‘I’m glad you’re looking for me.’

‘Wow? I never expected such a statement from the reserved K’ You smile as you scribble on your paper. Hearts, lines, letters. ‘My mom wants me to join a club.’

‘Which club do you want to join?’

‘Aren’t you in a club?’

‘Yes.’ He wouldn’t tell you which one no matter how many times you asked. “It’d be too easy if we narrowed it down.” He would say. That’s the point. Years of having this voice in your head and no face to go along with it. It was a little frustrating. Your eyes scanned your classroom, many of your classmates had found their soulmates. Purposely going to the same school and meeting each other. The difference between you and them was that they pushed the universe.

You and K had a delicately practiced dance. You would push and he would pull, sometimes he would push and you would pull. Memories of the high school conversation passed in your head. It had been so easy to get that information from him. Why was this so hard? Shaking your head you packed up and went to the bulletin board to see which clubs needed help. What caught your eye immediately was volleyball. You enjoyed the sport well enough. The team was looking for a manager.

‘I think I’m going to apply to be a manager of a sports team.’

‘Maybe it will be mine.’

‘I hate when you do that.’

‘Do what?’

‘I say something and you tease me for being hopeful.’

‘Maybe I was giving you hope.’ You hadn’t thought of it like that. You had always thought of it as him shutting down your attempts. Maybe he was giving you hope, he told you what high school he was going to. He told you he was on a sports team. So now here you stand looking at the sports section of the board and the first thing your eyes landed on was a almost hidden away post.

‘Did you hang up a post?’

‘If I did you wouldn’t know. If I didn’t you still found one that caught your eye and are trying for it. Take a jump. I’ll try to catch you if you fall.’

‘That was cheesy, even for me. But, thank you.’ With newfound courage you walked to the gym, it wasn’t loud since it was before practice. The team would be away on lunch at the moment. You quickly found the coach though. “Hello, I’m here to apply for the manager position for the volleyball team.” You smiled and held out your hand after approaching the man. He looked at you and nodded. He shook your hand and gave a run down on the things you would be expected to do.

“If that’s not too hard you’re welcome to the position. Show up here Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Thursdays as well but that will mostly be a quick stop to let me know if you see anything that I don’t catch and their grades and such.” You nodded along to the information with a wide smile on your face. From what you heard of the team they were really good. And there was a silent hope that you would meet K here.

“Alright, see you after school then coach!” You left the gym and went to lunch yourself. ‘K! I got the position!’

‘That’s nice, why are you yelling though?’

‘Because I’m excited.’ You huffed and sat down at your table. ‘I hope I’m not disturbing your lunch.’

‘We literally talk the whole lunch period everyday. Why are you so worried about it? Did someone say something?’ You smiled at his thoughtfulness. The more you two talked the more thoughtful and caring he appeared.

‘No, I’m just nervous for my first day on the job.’ You knew he was rolling his eyes at that.

‘No need to be nervous. You’ll probably be doing easy stuff and getting introduced to everyone.’ You knew he was right and it was silly to be nervous. You were still nervous though. What if you meet him and he doesn’t like you? ‘Stop. I can hear what you’re thinking, remember?’ Oh. Yeah. That.

‘If we meet I’m sure I’ll like you.’

‘You can’t know that for sure! What if you find me annoying?’

‘You’re not. Lunch is almost over, go to your last classes and then we’ll see if you picked my team.’ You were still nervous but he worked at reassuring you. Even though it didn’t calm you completely it was still nice.

One last skip for now. No one wants to sit in their thoughts. Or at least it’s not healthy to. Let’s see how you’re doing as a manager shall we?

Once you arrived in the gym again you began setting things up. It seemed you were early. Oh well, the coach said that it would be helpful to set up on days you got there before everyone else. Once the net got set up you went searching for the volleyballs. They’ve got to be around here somewhere.

“I would check in the storage closet.” A sudden voice shocked you and you jumped. You turned around and came face to face with one of your classmates.

“Komori right?” He nodded.

“I’ll check with you, the others should be getting here soon. Sorry you had to set it up by yourself.” He seemed nice, you had very minimal interactions in class but you always knew him as kind.

“It’s no problem, I’m your new manager so it was the least I could do.” He smiled at you as he showed you the cart of volleyballs.

“You’ll be meeting my cousin today. Don’t mind him, he can be a little off-putting when you first meet him.” Okay, well that was worrying. ‘K, I met one of the team members and he’s already told me to be careful of someone.’

‘You’ve got this, I wish I could talk but I’m about to start practice and I don’t think either of us wants me to get hurt.’

‘I don’t know, you’ll have more time to talk to me that way.’ You smiled and of course Komori noticed. “Soulmate?” You kind of forgot he was there but nodded.

“Yeah, apparently he’s about to start practice and made a joke.” Komori nodded and helped you push the carts out into the gym. The team had arrived by the time you guys had gotten back. One of them caught your eyes though. The tall dark haired boy. Sakusa. A lot of girls in your grade talked about him and how they wished he was their soulmate. Your cheeks heated up when you remembered you had a soulmate. Now was not the time to be gawking at boys.

‘Who are you gawking at?’

‘No one!’

‘Mhm, like I literally didn’t just hear you tell yourself to stop looking at someone.’

‘It’s nothing, one of the people on the team is just cute that’s all.’ You rolled your eyes and put on a smile before introducing yourself to everyone. “Hello, I’m L/N F/N. I’ll be your manager starting today. It’s lovely meeting everyone.” You stood back up and gave them all a smile. You noticed one of the players stiffened at the interaction. Maybe that’s what Komori said when he said his cousin could be a little off-putting.

You let them get to practice after that though, not wanting to hold them up any longer. Your eyes didn’t leave Sakusa though. He was mesmerizing to watch play. He looked like he enjoyed it. A stark contrast to him looking disinterested a moment ago. Get it together Y/N.

You had been spacing out for so long that it was time to pack up when you finally returned to reality. Komori said he would help you clean up but surprisingly Sakusa also agreed to help. Doesn’t he hate new people though?

‘You have that effect on people. No one ever hates you.’ Your cheeks heated up and you almost dropped the volleyball you were holding.

‘SINCE WHEN WERE YOU SUCH A FLIRT??????’ You placed the ball in the cart and looked around to see if there were anymore as you tried to calm yourself down.

‘I don’t know. I didn’t feel very good listening to you gawk over a guy for my entire practice.’

‘MAYBE IT WAS YOU???? EVER THINK ABOUT THAT???’ Not seeing anymore you turned back around to push the carts back to the storage room.

“Hey L/N, why do you look so flustered?” Komori being ever so helpful to point it out made you even more flustered.

“Because my soulmate decided to be unhelpful and flirt with me.”

“They don’t usually?” It was Sakusa’s turn to chime in now.

“No. Or at least not so obviously.” The boys helped you put the carts back. ‘Thank you so much for that. Now you’ve got people questioning why I’m acting the way I am.’

‘You’re welcome. Get home soon, it’s getting late.’

“Well, it was nice to meet you guys but I need to head home now.”

“See you later L/N”

“Yeah, see you.” With that you left the gym excited that you made more friends.

And with that chapter one is complete. I’m going to write the first chapter for all the installments of the series before continuing with a specific one. So, stay tuned for those! My askbox is open if you would like to request something and love you guys! Hope you enjoyed!

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated

Taglist:

Masterlist

#haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #haikyu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #sakusa fluff

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jinchuls-moved · 3 months

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𝙸𝚗 𝚂𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚑 ˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ ·

╰┈➤ prince!sakusa kiyoomi x princess!reader

about ≡ a love that felt timeless comes to a halt; the man in front of you isn’t him but you don’t know here he has gone.

ANGST — 5.3k

MASTERLIST ≡ NEXT

divider by @/cafekitsune

The first time you saw him you were only a young child, as the only daughter–the only child–of the king’s closest confidant, you learnt of your engagement to the young prince as soon as you were of an age to understand what would be expected of you.

You stood in front of him, confident and proud; proving to him, to yourself and, most of all, to your mother you were worthy of the title that would one day be passed on to you.

Just children, finding their fates intertwined by forces they could not control and their betrothal that would not only impact their families, but the lives of each and every subject of Itachiyama, as your mother often put it.

From then on, you were forced to endure your mother’s lessons and unbearable pressure. Teaching you of all the expectations that will be placed on you in addition to her own that weighed down on your heart.

Time felt as though it slowed, day by day passing as your mother and various tutors join you in a study, bombarding you with the history of the family you are to wed into; etiquette lessons to become more accustomed to the manner in which you’d be expected to act as a royal. And, those you enjoyed the least, lessons in embroidery. Pricks of the needle into your fingertips, sloppy threadwork you weren’t certain would ever improve all whilst feeling berated by your mother as “a lady should be able to do this with ease.”

Months of lessons stretch to years, from etiquette and embroidery to each and every aspect you needed in order to become the best queen you could, even if that role was far in your future. Through it all, there was something that made the passing of time more bearable.

The blissful, peaceful days you could have with Sakusa by your side.

What had begun as forced, uncomfortable meetings, sharing tea under the watchful gaze of your mother, had turned into something you’d often look forward to. Exploring the palace grounds as children, taking a wrong turn one day and finding the new place of your ever more frequent encounters.

Starting with standing in the ankle-deep stream that ran along the left of the clearing, crystal clear water, that looked more than refreshing; evolving to basking in the sun in the heat of summer, sneaking pitchers of juice and snacks away from the maids before they’d notice the two of you, or the food, had gone missing. And, as the two of you grew into near adults—as your social debut, and your wedding approached—the clearing became the one place the two of you could forget the duties sitting heavy on your shoulders.

Under the weeping willow, shielded from everything outside, you’d sit with Sakusa’s head resting on your lap, gentle strokes through his hair, occasionally tracing your finger between the beauty marks on his forehead. The soft, sweet movements relieve him of all stress haunting him.

It was times like these where his princely nature, the vision the public had of him, would fumble and you would gain confidence to speak in ways you’d never let another witness as you gently ran your fingers through the curls of his hair, you studied the delicate features of his face as he closed his eyes, almost falling asleep with you as his pillow.

“What burdens you, My Dear?” He spoke up, eyes remaining closed. “I can feel the way you stare.” Now opening his eyes, his gaze meets yours, a soft frown on his face as he misinterpreted your silence as something worse.

“Nothing burdens me.” You smile, “I was simply thinking how much more enjoyable my time is when it is spent with you.”

He grins in return, lips faltering as he tries to hide his embarrassment, evident by the faint pink that adorns his cheeks. “I feel the same,” Sakusa whispers, reaching up to loosen your fingers from his curls and lacing his between yours. Bringing your hand closer, he places a soft kiss on your skin. “And, I must say. Though we had little choice, I am glad you are my betrothed.”

A sweet moment, one you had begun to cherish from the moment it occurred, or at least would have if it were not the final time you found the joy of his company and the clearing hand in hand. In fact, until the night of the ball hosted to celebrate his 18th birthday, you wouldn’t see him again.

You hadn’t thought much of it, assuming his responsibilities had made him too busy to make time for you, as it did occasionally. You find yourself missing him; waiting for the moment you could see him again, relaxed, under that oak tree but you have no luck until you’re attached to his arm, his partner as always, and waiting for the grand doors to open and your arrival to be announced to those lucky enough to receive an invitation.

They open and you can hear the faint music grow louder as you take your place at the top of the extravagant, and aggravatingly long, staircase allowing the guests time to lower their heads not only for the man at your side but the king and queen who had stepped in alongside you and, one day, they would do the same for you.

The music does not stop until you reach the bottom of the stairs as you wait for the king to announce the official beginning of the celebration; to wish his son well on the day intended to honour him. His speech comes to an end and the music brings the hall back to life. You’re pulled into idle chatter by those around you, some wanting to know of your well-being or your family’s, others solely interested in forming a connection with the future leaders of their kingdom.

Through it all, you simply wished for a moment of peace and an opportunity to escape. Yet another thing you’d learnt you shared with Sakusa: your distaste for expectation and attention.

You endure it for as long as you can, taking Sakusa’s hand as he requests your first dance, standing alongside your mother at the edge of the ballroom floor as Sakusa entertains each noble that approaches him. It seems like forever passes before you’re able to be beside him again, once more pulled into the centre of the floor (a result of your mother’s persistent pestering). You tell yourself there’s one more dance, a few more minutes of your time taken with everyone’s eyes locked onto the pair of you, an action you were sure you’d one day become accustomed to but, until then, you were left comforted by Sakusa’s words–encouraging you through each step.

Minute by minute, the night passes slowly—only enjoyable in the moment you find yourself hand in hand with Sakusa as he leads you through one of, what feels like, the hundreds of dances you had practiced all your life. His soft, gentle hands holding yours as though you were made of porcelain; as though one wrong move would shatter you in seconds.

Two or three dances pass—your movements seem to blend into the music, your focus only on him—you lose track of the time as the busy, political, intended nature of the ball. Leaving the dance floor, still hand in hand, you expect Sakusa to bid you farewell and mingle amongst those that will benefit him greatly once he is coronated.

But he never lets go. He never stops moving. He never looks back.

Pulling you from the vast ballroom you find yourself in the corridors of the palace, one’s you know well but ones that felt much different, more intimate now you were lead by your betrothed until you reach the beautiful glass doors that lead one of many balconies looking over the palace garden.

“What will people think?” You laugh, allowing him to pull you into the cold—he wastes no time in ridding himself of his jacket to wrap it around your shoulders. “The guest of honour hiding from his own celebration, taking a woman with him no less.” Fingers taking hold of the collars, you pull your covering closer. The familiar scent of him filling your nose.

“Taking his fiancé with him.” Sakusa corrects, leaning against the balcony rails as the cold breeze swims in the air. He looks beautiful as the wind disheveles every perfectly placed hair.

“We are yet to marry, there is still room for scandal.” He chuckles, staring down at the view of the garden. Making your way beside him everything feels right. The world you had been born to be part of, trained in your youth for and yearning for since you felt you heart beat only for him. It may have never been your choice, but the life expected of you didn’t seem too bad when Sakusa was going to be there with you.

“I can think of a worse scandal soon to be exposed.” Turning your head to him, you raise an eyebrow in your confusion. “The prince’s fiancé makes no attempt to congratulate him on his birthday.” A smile comes to your face at his teasing joke, turning to face him and taking a small step back. Your hand comes to your dress, pulling it out as you prepare yourself for a curtsy. Bowing your head you begin the official congratulations you’re assuming he’s expecting.

“I wish His Highness-” he raises his hand to stop you before you’re able to so much as bow.

“Not like that.” He whispers, taking a step towards you and gracefully wrapping his arms around your waist. Pulling you close he waits for you to talk.

Feeling the warmth emanating from his body, you’re suddenly painfully aware of the distance between you he’s shrunk. The cold chill in the air feels like nothing against the burning of your embarrassment coursing through you until you find yourself lost in the moment, meeting his eyes with your shy glance. “Kiyoomi.” You whisper, pushing a hand to his chest–he makes no effort to move. “This isn’t-” He watches you as you struggle to find the words becoming more flustered as each second passes. You look away, unable to keep your gaze on his, instead choosing to focus on the balcony railings and the stretch of the garden barely illuminated under the palace lights. “We are yet to be wed.” You remind him once more, tone as confident as you can muster.

“Will your reputation be tarnished by a single act no one is a witness to?” A guiding finger rests under your chin, luring you to look his way again. “I simply wish to hear your congratulations today.”

His fingers move gently against your skin, soft for the most part but the rough calluses forming rubbed against your skin, making you wish they could remain soft for the comfort of his caresses.

“Happy birthday, Kiyoomi.” Your voice is barely audible, only reaching his ears and, had it not been for the silence of the balcony, he may not have been blessed by the quiet embarrassment in your voice he’d grown to favour.

“I believe I may now call it so.” He whispers back through his grin, relishing in your initial shock as he closes the gap between the two of you, catching you in a kiss—your first—that would certainly trigger another lecture on your social reputation from your mother. If she were to find out.

It was magical; everything you had dreamt of. Perfect. Had you known what was coming, you would have savoured the moment longer.

Mere weeks later, to the surprise of everyone, the news comes that sits a weight on your heart that you can’t hold—the kingdom is at war and the prince must lead his army to victory. And you are left alone.

Your only solace is found in the frequent letters you’d share, his less detailed than yours—saving you from the horrors he was experiencing and only sharing what little could be considered ‘good’ on the battlefield. Small anecdotes; stories about his men and his queries into how you are. There seemed to be and endless amount to talk about and the letters were frequent enough to keep you enthralled with him.

Until they weren’t.

Days turned to weeks. Weeks turned to months and word soon stopped. No matter how much you longed to hear from him; no matter how often you sent letters of your own you heard nothing. You fear the worst, fear his death came too soon and that you were going to be the last to find out; you wonder if his parents would even feel the need to tell you. And if he wasn’t, was he captured? Was he in danger? Did his men fail to keep him safe?

How were you to ever find out?

Maybe you were never supposed to. Maybe this was how you were to find out the truth of his feelings towards you and that he’d stopped entertaining your painfully obvious childish infatuation. You could only assume so when his mother mentions, in passing, that he’s grown more into his role over the years if she was perceiving his letters correctly.

His silence was for you and you only and it shatters you. You’re left heartbroken and with a hundred questions but the one lingering on your mind the most is why? Why spend your life concerned for a man that appears to have to care for you?

You wish you could say it never bothered you and had never left you sleepless as you thought of every part of your childhood that had you falling for him in the first place. And, perhaps, with a little more time, you would have found a way to heal. Perhaps if you hadn’t heard from him again you could have felt normal.

His final letter comes as a surprise; you read it again and again, eyes scanning each word as if there was a hidden message behind them; as if something would jump from the paper and scream the truth of all that you had missed–all that he had kept from you.

But nothing came, just the words that felt as though they had no care behind them; no explanation as to why his letters had stopped. Simply a small letter, a paragraph that held nothing more than the words scrawled on the page, that you doubted he had even written himself, stating your wedding would be held in three days–leaving you no time to process that he was back. The time you had spent mourning him; crying to Kiyoko as the thought of losing him broke you.

Instead, you found yourself thrown into preparations and, with your lack of interest in the wedding painfully obvious to everyone but your overexcited mother, you feel as though there’s no time to breathe as flower arrangements, invitations and dress fittings are forced on you with no room allowed for your own opinions.

The days pass slowly, you’re overwhelmed and waiting for the end of the night when you can crawl into bed or finally release the build-up of emotions to an increasingly worried Kiyoko as she stood, brushing through your hair and encouraging you to tell her the truth. After witnessing it all, the months of missing him; the way you broke at the loss of contact and the anger you had felt when he resurfaced, she was unprepared to let you burden yourself with the weight of the kingdom’s expectations.

Especially as the night before the wedding falls.

You cling to Kiyoko as she held you tight, your head rested on her lap as she gently stroked your hair—her futile attempt to soothe you. Every wail from you leaves her shattered and the letter, the blaster letter, sit torn to shreds at your feet. Ripping it apart in a haste as Kiyoko opened your doors, you fell into a state of despair.

Tomorrow was the day of your dreams but reality felt like much more of a nightmare.

It’s a miracle your home isn’t awoken by your heartbreak but no one else comes or they simply don’t care enough to stop the once thing that benefits even the lowest of employees in your family home. Why should they step in just because you felt pain?

“I can’t!” You cry. You must, you think—the protests fall from your lips as you lose yourself in the spiral your mind has become, Kiyoko’s efforts to calm you are useless. She’s left with nothing to do but wait for you to exhaust yourself—which comes soon—only then is she able to gentle tuck you into bed again ignoring the painful pant of her own heart as she yearns for a way to get you out of your forced destiny. Yet, all she can do is stay at your side and bring you some sort of familiarity to the life you’re dreading.

It’s a restless night, tossing and turning in a light sleep that wakes you frequently. You stare at the ceiling, hoping sleep will take you once more as the birds chirp and the world awakens. If an escape is not possible, just a few more minutes of sleep will be preferable.

Puffy-eyed, throat sore, and filled with dread, you wake the next morning to the room filling with maids, more than you had ever been used to seeing, and your mother pushing her way in determined to oversee every last detail of the preparation. Since you woke up that morning, you hadn’t had a single chance to breathe.

Your mother, someone who had always been considered a respectable woman, pulled you to your feet with a childish grin on her face, pushing you from the comfort and warmth of your covers to one of her employees, whose name she certainly had never bothered to learn.

Rushed onto your feet, the only chance you have to breathe is the short time you have away from your mother–that you wished would stretch longer–sat in the warmth of your bathtub and allowing yourself just a few minutes to relax before you’re thrown into the fire burning in your home.

Your mother stands amongst the maids as you return, insisting on every last detail of your hair and clothing; ignoring the few requests you’d had just a few days beforehand. But you move past it quickly, those few requests weren’t important to either of you, your mother wanted this day to be perfect; it had to fit the image she had in her mind whereas you would had preferred nothing at all or, since you had no choice, something much less extravagant than all that had been planned.

You’re more than ready for it to end the second it begins, you’re being tugged from side to side as the maids (not so) delicately pull your hair into the intricate style your mother is insisting on, she’s quick to slap the back of your hand as you complain, reaching to alter the curl your mother seems to love–she’s telling you to remain still; accusing you of ruining the day before it had even began.

So, you’re left with no choice. You sit, having your head pulled from side to side under your mother's orders; you share a look with your lady-in-waiting through the mirror praying there was something either of you could do to stop the hell you’re about to subject yourself to—as though either of you could stop the dictator making her orders.

You lose track of the time you’re spent as your mother’s living doll, having your breath stolen as the corset is tightened around you with the order of “a little more” and your ignored protests. Your arms are pulled left and right as you're pushed into the gown, leaving only makeup to be done.

You hope it won’t take as long as your mother makes it seem; with powder being slapped on your face and more instructions being tossed at the maids. There’s nothing you can do but sit and take everything thrown your way; you’re being led to the royal carriage before you realise it—you’re still not ready.

You’re not sure how many hours have passed since the moment you woke up but, now, the sun is beating down on you through the window of the carriage. It hurts your eyes, just a little bit, but you think that’s better than your attention being on your mother. She’s sat opposite you listing off her requirements and rules for the day—all boiling down to ‘don’t mess this up’. Ruining the day was practically impossible. You’d practiced a million times, you’d had nothing but lessons on palace etiquette and you’d memorised your agenda for the day years ago. Above all, it was once a day you dreamt of—once one that left your heart fluttering.

You were a robot programmed for this day and this day only. Ruining it was not an option.

She doesn’t stop talking until you reach the palace but you’re left with no time to feel the relief. You freeze for a moment, staring at the church that stood tall, staring down at you; taunting you. Even with only a few more moments until those doors opened, until you were expected to give the rest of your life to a man you no longer wanted in your memories, you hoped you’d receive one more message that would set you free. Instead, you take the step out of the carriage, feeling the never-changing watchful glare of your mother bore into your side even as she’s encouraged away, inside the building, with Kiyoko following behind her. Your silent beg for her to stay with you; your plead for her to stand beside you and offer you the only comfort you would receive that day, don’t go unnoticed but she has no choice but to follow after your mother, leaving you stood alone with nothing to do but wait for the sound of the organ and opening of the holy doors condemning you into a life you considered hell.

Left alone, time seems to stop. There’s an endless silence that envelopes you until you’re left restless, taunted by the wait hoping the tune will never start. You don’t fund yourself lucky. The grand doors slowly creak open, the music begins quietly, the volume rising as you come into view. You want the floor to swallow you whole as every guest stands and their attention is solely on you.

It’s time.

You wish there was someone beside you. Your mother, your father, Kiyoko or just a maid. But you’re expected to take each step solo.

As the music continues you take each painstaking step. Chattering and whispers dying down to silence as the sound of the organ grows; there isn’t a single pair of eyes not on you.

Glancing around the room, or at least to those sat in proximity to the aisle in the vast chapel, you’re realising there are minimal people here to support you.

There’s viscounts and barons hoping to gain power through relationships with the higher ranking earls and dukes. There’s women hoping to meet a higher ranking man to lift them up the societal hierarchy and you start to think Kiyoko is the only person really there for you.

The closer you come to Sakusa, the more familiar the faces become. You may not know them all, but the soldiers that fought alongside your fiancé stand to your left, all smiling at the thought of their captain, the man that lead them to victory in the near half-decade they were at war, getting his chance of happiness. Or what they perceive to be so.

You search the sea of vaguely recognisable faces, trying to keep your attention forward as you walk and, only then, do you look to the men that stand close, at Sakusa’s side. His most trusted, his family–only one of which you recognise. And only one of which you’re happy see.

Komori. Sakusa’s cousin and right hand, there wasn’t a thing on Earth Sakusa knew the Komori didn’t; as your eyes met his he greets you with a familiar, comforting smile—one you hadn’t seen in far too long. The sight of him turns from reassurance into something you’d wished you’d never laid eyes on.

You hate it.

It reminds you of the happiest years of your life, when you could consider Sakusa a friend instead of the stranger he’d become; when you could laugh or cry around him and not fear his reaction. Of when you would accompany both Sakusa and Komori on walks around the palace garden, almost always ending in a scolding from your mother at the filth that littered the dress she had carefully picked out that morning, something that never bothered you. Because the time you spent without supervision was always the time you looked forward to most.

It reminds you of the time you thought married life could be somewhat enjoyable.

Beside him are the infamous mercenaries hired to fight alongside the soldiers; now knights of the palace with the sole duty of protecting the prince. There’s Bokuto and Hinata, the two deceitfully cheerful men with the power to kill in seconds if given the chance. Together, they were an unstoppable team but they were not as treacherous as the faux blonde sat beside them with judgmental eyes targeting you.

Miya Atsumu. Bloodthirsty and menacing, his stare had you wanting to turn and leave more than you already were. His brown eyes felt like they were searching your very soul and all you could do was look away, finally looking at your betrothed.

For the first time in over four years.

You hate to admit it, you really do, but, no matter how much you despise him, you cannot deny the fact he’s become an inexplicably handsome man.

Maybe it was the years on the battlefield that had forced him to grow from the 18-year-old you remember into the toned, beautiful heir to the throne waiting for you at the alter; his new physique perfectly suiting the white suit he had donned; golden accessories making him more breathtaking. And, across his shoulders sat the white mantle handed down the generations of his family: a symbol of alleged love and affection between the king and his queen.

It makes you want to laugh.

The worst thing about it all, the one thing you’d expected but hoped he would control, is the expression on his face. If a single person was looking at him they would realise what a mockery this wedding was—no one should have an expression of such abhorrence at the site of their wife. Yet, there he was looking at you like you were dirt on his boots, like you were the enemy he’d been fighting for so long.

You slow for a second, taking a hesitant step forward as you force your eyes away from his. You know this isn’t what either of you want, you’re aware there may even be a woman Sakusa yearns for but can never have. But you wish you could live your life differently, turn and run; find a man to love wholeheartedly.

Reaching the alter, everything feels real. Sakusa takes his steps towards you; taking your hand and guiding you up the steps to the high priest, who’s waiting for the music to cease and the ceremony to officially begin.

With your back to the crowd, you ignore the words spoken by the priest; they mean nothing to you as he speaks of blessings showered down on the union—on how this is the wedding everyone has been anticipating.

Everyone but the two of you.

So, you stand. A hand rested on Sakusa’s as you wait for your cue to turn to him; to listen to him speak his vows, one’s you’ll have to echo afterwards.

When the time comes, you let him take your hands; you let him talk and you let him slide the ring on your finger. You’re locked into your life the second he finishes; he looks as unhappy as you feel at that moment.

Then it’s your turn; everyone’s watching you. They’re waiting to celebrate not only the marriage of the prince but the consolidation of power that will become their king and queen. But, not a single one knows you’re anxious about the words you're expected to say.

All eyes turn to you as your turn to repeat the words spoken moments beforehand comes, holding Sakusa’s hand in yours whilst you wait for the moment to slide the ring on his finger; the cold metal matches the rough man who’s not so much as smiled at you from the moment the doors opened.

You can hear the minister speaking even though you don’t register the words, meaningless words you’d practised a hundred times under the order of your mother, words that would have once spluttered from your mouth through your amusing nerves and had your heart racing. Yet, now, they left you numb and full of regret. Had all those years you’d given him, all the emotions you’d once thought you shared, been some sort of game? Or had he let you think he felt something towards you just so he could fulfil the duties placed on him by his father?

Taking a deep breath as the silence falls amongst the hall, as it had when Sakusa spoke his vows, and you prepare yourself for what was beginning to shape the rest of your life. “I y/n l/n take you, Sakusa Kiyoomi,” meeting his eyes for just a second you feel yourself begin to falter, staring at the man who, for just a split second, held a soft expression on his face. You lose sight of it just as quickly as you had noticed it, watching him as he turns from the young man that had been by your side; the man that had made you feel as though you were more than enough for anyone, to the stranger that had returned.

The moment passes and the light fades as you open your mouth to continue, “to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward,” with him in front of you; with the hopeful eyes of everyone watching, you’re left with nothing other than a bitter taste in your mouth.

“for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer,” you let your eyes drift to your parents, sitting beside Kiyoko, and your mother’s beaming smile urges you on with no care for what you want. She sits, expectant, waiting for the opportunity to call her daughter the princess, waiting to be known as the woman who was successful in making her child the future queen.

No matter how much you had told her you wanted anything else for your own life.

With your attention back to the man in front of you, you continue. “in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish,” You allow yourself to entertain the thought of just what type of person Sakusa would be in those situations. Wondering if he’d warm to you again, just as he did when you were younger, or if he’d show more of the man he’d seemed to have become. Would he care or would he leave you to feel alone in the palace through the moments you needed someone with you most?

“till death do us part,” The question of his loyalty had never come to your mind, you knew how he was raised and you knew how he felt about mistresses. You were all he would have be it willing or not.

“according to God’s holy law.” Uttering the words feel almost blasphemous, in a place of worship shared with a man you had long since lost any loving feelings. Words that most would believe were shared between lovers, young adults that had waited for this moment since they were children, unaware of the loss you feel thinking about the man that once took claim of your heart.

You hold the ring in your hand, delicately lifting it so you can slide it down his slender finger, trapping yourself with the final words you speak, mouth dry and voice shaking, enough to be misconstrued as nerves, as you do so.

“This is my solemn vow.”

#𝓈𝒾𝑔𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝑒𝒸𝒽𝑜 ༉‧₊˚.#haikyuu #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa angst #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader

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kitasgloves · 2 months

Text

"You are in love"

event masterlist

— ♬ "And you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars. And why I've spent my whole life tryin' to put it into words"

— ♬ Kuroo x Reader, timeskip, SFW, fluff, gen reader, high school friends to lovers, no beta

One look, dark room, meant just for you. Time moved too fast, you played it back. You see buttons on a coat and remember a lighthearted joke, back then it had no proof and it was not much but you saw enough. When you were younger, you had trouble making friends. You used to believe that there was something wrong with you and that nobody was willing to stay and play, for a long time you coped with that. Being alone. Until high school went up and changed everything.

You didn't originally want to go to Nekoma High, you were aiming for Fukurodani Academy or even Itachiyama Institute. But you ended up going to Nekoma which you admit you hated at first. You had the potential to be in more prestigious schools in Tokyo but at least you ended up in one of the higher class sections during your first year. In terms of academics, there was no hassle. You went through every homework, classwork, presentation, and even group activity like a breeze. However, in terms of social life, you offer nothing but silence.

You couldn't connect with anyone in your class, they were kind people but there was no one who you see willing to open up to you and vice versa. It felt like your childhood and middle school all over again, you always ended up alone. But you were fortunately wrong. It was a fateful day during lunch and you were eating alone when you spotted a shadow over your head. And you saw him, feline-like eyes and bedhead hair. He offers you an eager smile.

"Mind if I sit here with you?"

He asks and you nod. He sits across from you and pulls out his lunch. He looked taller and older than you. The way he behaved around you told you how he was comfortable with approaching strangers, and you stopped eating.

"You're Kenma's seatmate, right?"

"Oh, you mean Kozume-san?"

"Yep! He didn't go to school today, he got sick"

"You know him?"

"We're childhood best friends, we sorta tell each other everything. I'm Kuroo Tetsuro, by the way"

"[Name], [Name] [Surname]"

Kuroo seems so eager to get to know you. Your first lunch shared with Kuroo left you perplexed, you're convinced it was only a one-time occurrence. But it repeated, again, and again. For months until the entirety of your first year. You and Kuroo became friends, something you never anticipated. You two became so close that it felt natural. By the time you reached your second year, you and Kuroo were inseparable.

He convinced you to join the boys' volleyball club as manager. Kenma became the witness to all your shenanigans with his childhood best friend. Because of Kuroo, you changed. You've learned to open up to people, you've become the person you are today thanks to him. Your friendship with Kuroo got you through the hardships in high school up until graduation. The two of you remained close after he left for college and the beginning of your third year. You and Kuroo consistently kept in touch until it was your turn to leave Nekoma for college.

You haven't heard from each other ever since and you've made a new life while in college. You gained new experiences, new friends, and new challenges to overcome. Even if you and Kuroo drifted apart, there wasn't a day that you don't wonder where he is right now. By your last year in college, you began to miss him. To miss the memories you had with him in high school. Watching movies, playing video games with Kenma, volleyball practice, and having sleepovers. You had a major case of nostalgia when you went through your photos back at high school, there were polaroids of you and him on his graduation that never fail to make you tear up.

College ended as your career started. You found a good job that paid enough to sustain yourself, that's when you began trying to reconnect with Kuroo. You also found out that Kenma became a YouTuber, rising in popularity. All it took was a quick DM to his Instagram account and you got Kuroo's contact number. Apparently, he works at the Japan Volleyball Association within the Sports Promotion division. Something you knew he would definitely pursue.

It was close to midnight when you contemplated calling up his number, a million scenarios flooded your head. He could be already asleep, he probably doesn't know your number, or maybe he has already forgotten you. Your chest goes tight at the last thought. But you suck in a deep breath and dialed Kuroo's number. You held your phone against your ear and stared down at your Polaroid picture with him in your hand.

"Hello?"

You hear his voice in the line and your throat goes dry. It felt like your heart stopped beating but began racing after realizing the weight of the situation. You let out a shaky breath.

"Hi, Tetsu"

"...[Name]? Holy shit [Name] is that you?!"

He sounds so excited and it causes tears to well up in your vision. You let out a relieved chuckle knowing Kuroo hasn't forgotten about you. Immediately, you and him began talking and catching up on each other's lives. There was a brief exchange of apologies for letting the years go by without keeping in touch, but there were no grudges held and all was forgiven.

"Where is your place? I'll pick you up, let's get coffee"

"Sure"

It began snowing outside as you wrapped yourself in your warmest clothes. You waited in front of your apartment complex and saw a car pull up minutes later. The windows roll down and your heart leaps out of your chest. It was Kuroo Tetsuro, your high school best friend. He was grinning at you like he always did back then. He kept his signature bedhead hair and the only difference was he seemed to look more charming than he was during high school. You smile as he opens the door for you.

You sat in the passenger seat in quietness while smiling at each other, it truly felt like nothing had changed. Small talk and he drives. You two grab coffee at midnight. You and Kuroo stood against each other under the snow, sipping on coffee and laughing. The lampost light reflects the chain on your neck, Kuroo's eyebrows raised.

"Look up"

He says, and your shoulders brushed. It was no mistaking it. You were still wearing the necklace he gave you on your eighteenth birthday. You couldn't tell if the cold made his ears red or something else. No proof, one touch. But seeing Kuroo slide closer to you made you feel enough.

Something has changed, you couldn't point out what it was but something wasn't the same with you and Kuroo. The two of you spent a whole month making up for lost time. If it was possible, it seemed like the two of you became even closer. Perhaps closer than him and Kenma but felt way more different. You began noticing the shift in your and Kuroo's relationship one morning when you woke up at his place after spending the night before drinking. You smell burnt toast in the kitchen and it was a Sunday. You keep his shirt, and he keeps his word. And for once, you let go, of your fears and your ghosts. One step, not much. But it said enough.

You feel the change transform you and Kuroo uncontrollably. This felt nothing like high school anymore. Kuroo was getting closer and closer each time and you always let him. You've never felt so comfortable with anyone in your life. This is proved when Kuroo and you began kissing on sidewalks. You knew you'd never find someone like Kuroo in your life, so whenever you two would fight, you two would always talk.

However, everything comes into full circle one night when Kuroo wakes. He spent the night at your apartment and slept beside you. You stirred awake and you see the strange look on his face. He looks at you deep into your eyes, you gaze back with bated breath. He pauses.

"[Name], you're my best friend"

He says. And you knew what it was, he was in love. He's in love with you. So you instantly leaned against him and shared a long gentle kiss. For a long time, you felt like you two were dancing in a snow globe 'round and 'round. And now he keeps a picture of you in his office downtown. And understand why you spent your whole life trying to put it in two words. But you can hear it in the silence. You can feel it on the way home. You can see it with the lights out. You didn't see it back then but now it becomes crystal clear; you're in love, true love. You're in love with Kuroo Tetsuro.

"I think I fell in love with you the moment you gave me this necklace for my eighteenth birthday"

"Oh, really? Well, I think I fell in love with you when I sat with you for lunch back at high school for the first time"

"You're lying"

"No! Ask Kenma! I just didn't know it back then. But now, when you called me up after what felt like ages, I knew I didn't want to be in love with somebody else"

"Ew, cheeseball"

"Look at you, being so in love with me"

"As if you aren't more terribly in love with me, Tetsu"

"I wouldn't want it any other way, darling"

#— ♬ ©kitasgloves #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo x y/n #Spotify

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